The Wrong Marius
by totallyrandomwigs
Summary: Jean Valjean goes to save Marius from the barricades, but the two of them have never actually met. Imagine how easily he could have got the wrong person... Oneshot. Pleeeeease review.


Jean Valjean couldn't believe he'd ever thought the _sewers_ were a good idea. In fairness, it had seemed like the only logical choice at the time. He crawled a little further along the rancid tunnel, dragging his heavy burden behind him. After a moment's thought, he checked that the boy was still breathing. It was would be tragic yet hilarious if he died now, by drowning in sewage.

'I think we can trace this back,' Jean thought, 'To having children. Well, _inheriting_ children, in my case.'

Cosette tended to whine. It was the birthright of every pretty, spoilt rich girl to whine and nag and complain, and she was no exception. She whined about the latest fashionable dresses, she whined about every single tedious ball and social event. The way she'd gone on about that _boy_. Jean winced at the recollection. It was strikingly reminiscent of how she'd begged for a pony on her eleventh birthday. Every other sentence was about ponies, and how much she loved them, how much she _had_ to have a pony, she couldn't _live_ without one. So, being an excellent father of limited patience, he bought her a pony. Which she had tired of in a week, of course.

'And you,' Jean addressed the unconscious boy, 'are the latest pony.' he patted the boy's cheek affectionately.

He wondered if all daughters were like this. He was sure that other fathers didn't risk life and limb in stupid revolutions, and crawl through sewers just because their daughters fancied someone. Oh well. Other fathers weren't stuck with Her Nibs.

 _Finally_. He heaved the body up out of the sewers and straightened his aching back. 'We'd better get cleaned up before Cosette sees,' he said. 'If you don't mind me saying, you don't look particularly handsome and charming at the moment.'

'You have him?!' Cosette shrieked. You could really hear the extra exclamation marks.

'Yes, yes,' Jean gingerly felt to see if his ears were bleeding. 'He's just waking up at the moment.'

'How did you get him out?!'

'Ah. Well. I was hoping you wouldn't ask. He might smell a bit funny, but I assure you...'

'How did you _find_ him?!'

'That actually did pose a bit of a problem. There were lots of young men running about. Your description of "Young, blonde and handsome with a gun" didn't really narrow it down...' he paused. She was already skipping out of the room. '...but don't worry, I found him...it did take a little...oh, you've gone.'

He followed her into the room. Cosette was standing, staring at the boy. She looked confused. Well. More confused than usual.

'Who's this?!'

'This is Marius. That's who you wanted, isn't it?'

The young man on the couch was, indeed, blonde and handsome. And he was wearing a rather fetching red coat. He groaned theatrically, and carefully propped himself up on his elbows. 'Where am I?' he opened his eyes and looked groggily around. 'Who are you?'

'Oh. Ah. Don't you remember her?' Jean waved hopefully at Cosette.

'No. I've never met her before.'

'Really? Are you sure? You don't remember stalking her? Following her home, spying on her, sending secret messages, the whole thing? You don't remember that?'

The young man blinked. With an effort, he focused on Jean. 'No. I think I would remember something like that.'

' _You're_ not Marius!?' Cosette squeaked accusingly. The young man glared at her. It was definitely a glare, as opposed to a loving gaze. 'Of course I'm not Marius.'

Cosette was about to throw a tantrum. Her bottom lip was wobbling furiously. 'Oh dear,' Jean said. 'I've brought the wrong pony.'

'This isn't Marius, Father!?'

'Yes, I see, I think I've made a mistake...'

'You promised me you would bring me Marius, Father!?'

'What I meant to do was...'

' _You're the worst father ever!?_ '

'I am not a pony!'

'He's the wrong Marius!?'

'Wait, wait...' the young man sat up. 'Are you Cosette?'

'Of _course_ I'm Cosette!?' A major wobbly was coming any moment now.

'I think I know what's happened. My name is Enjolras, and your father here must have picked me up by mistake.'

'Ah...' Jean said. 'You were knocked unconscious, and I just presumed...'

'It's an easy mistake to make.'

'Yes, I hadn't actually met the young man in question. "Blonde and handsome" wasn't very helpful.'

'I'm sure that we all look alike.'

'You do, actually.' Jean said, surprised. He didn't intend to start getting the hang of sarcasm at his time of life.

'So Marius is dead!?' Cosette interrupted. Enjolras tactfully left the answering to Jean.

'Well...um...it appears so. I'm so sorry, darling. Won't this one do?'

'No!?'

'Can't I get you another one?'

'No!? Life is not worth living without my Marius!?'

'But you've only known him a couple of days,' Enjolras put in.

'I loved him with all my heart as soon as I saw his face!?'

'Not enough to describe him properly, it seems.'

'What did you say, Father?!'

'Nothing, darling.'

'Where was I?!'

'Life is not worth living without Marius.' Enjolras prompted.

'Oh yes. Goodbye cruel world!?' she picked up a pistol and held it to her head.

'You're pointing it the wrong way.' Enjolras said.

'What?! Oh yes. Thank you. Now...!?'

'Darling, wait...'

'Madam, please...'

'I'll see you soon, Marius!?'

Then she pulled the trigger.

'Oh. Dear.'

'What a mess.' Enjolras thoughtfully scratched his head.

'Indeed.' Jean caught himself mourning the curtains. White curtains were _never_ going to be a good idea. Although they weren't white anymore now.

'Well,' Enjolras began, feeling that some form of consolation was required, 'Never mind. Chin up and all that. Life goes on, you know.' They both looked at the body. 'Well. Not for all of us, of course.'

The front door was flung open with suitable drama. There really should have been a thunderclap in the background, or ominous music. Although none of that would have distracted anyone from the _smell_.

'Gracious,' Enjolras choked. 'It smells like he's been crawling through the sewer.'

The figure was drenched from head to toe in...manure, shall we say?

'I've come for Cosette!' he announced, spitting out a mouthful of what Jean sincerely hoped was nice, clean water.

They pointed.

'Wha...Oh. She's _dead_?'

'She just shot herself in the head, so probably.' Enjolras chipped in helpfully. 'There's been a misunderstanding. I was supposed to be you, but of course I wasn't, and then we presumed you were dead. So she shot herself. Nice to see you alive, by the way, Marius.'

Marius blinked at them. The lights were on but there was _definitely_ no one home.

'I was wrong,' Jean thought. 'He and Cosette would have been _perfect_ for each other.'

Marius rallied. 'Without Cosette, my life is not worth...'

'It's quite tragic, but also funny,' Enjolras said. 'I mean, if she'd only _waited_ a minute or two...'

'Without Cosette, I have no reason to...'

'It's a shame,' Jean agreed. 'I mean, if he _was_ dead, she'd probably have found someone else.'

'She didn't know him that well anyway.'

'Without _Cosette_ , I no longer wish to remain...'

'I don't think she even knew his second name.'

'She didn't even know what colour his eyes were.'

'Now that Cosette is _dead_ , I'm going to take this gun...'

'Really? How could she not know that?'

'This gun here...'

'Apparently they only met once or twice, and always in the dark. Through a fence.'

'This _loaded gun...'_

'Through a _fence_? I mean, I thought Marius was a bit nuts, but...'

'Is _anyone_ actually _listening_ to me?!'

'He was a bit of a stalker. From what he told him. I'm surprised she fancied him.'

'Well, we don't get out much. She doesn't meet many men.'

'Make hay while the sun shines, I suppose.'

BANG

'Oh. Is he dead?'

'Looks like it.'

The two men stared at the bodies.

'Well. This is awkward.' Enjolras laughed uncomfortably. 'I feel a bit responsible for all this.'

'Oh, don't worry. She always was a bit of a drama queen.'

'Someone will be along to see what all the commotion was.'

'You're right. We should leave.'

'Should we just go?'

'Yes, let's just...let's just go...'

They scurried out. Quickly.


End file.
